


Pictures worth thousands of words

by SevlinRipley



Category: It - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 18:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18833851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevlinRipley/pseuds/SevlinRipley
Summary: Prompt: “why do you find those cute I hate those pictures of myself”





	Pictures worth thousands of words

“Oh m- Eds... What the fuck?” Richie asked reaching over Eddie’s shoulder to tug at a picture that was Blu Tacked to the inside of the grey, metal locker.

Eddie felt a noise of objection escape his mouth, hand reaching up too-slow, to grab at Richie’s wrist. His eyebrows drew together, watching Richie sweep the photo away and over his head. Luckily, it was one of many, if Richie did anything drastic.

Turning, Eddie folded his arms back across his textbook. “Hey dickweed, no touching! You could’ve bent it; now put it back!”

“No touching?” Richie asked, scowl turning into a smirk as he looked up from the picture. “You mean no touching what isn’t mine? Cause uh... I don’t recall giving you these, Eds. Who touched whose things first?”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie huffed out an indignant little breath, and then pivoted his foot out, and extended his hand. “Give it back...” he told Richie sternly, ignoring the burning of his cheeks, undoubtedly gone red.

Richie pulled the picture up flat to his chest so that the only way Eddie was going to get it back was if he ended up bending or tearing it himself. “No way! Why do you even _want_ them? I hate these pictures!”

Brown eyes flashing darker, Eddie had the audacity to look hurt by Richie’s words. He didn’t think that was quite fair. A man ought to have the right to consider himself ugly and un-photogenic.

“Well, if you hate 'em so much, then let me have ‘em,” Eddie said finally, a hint of a pout to his lower lip.

Shoulders sagging, Richie took another step back as if distance was what he needed in order to resist Eddie. It’d never worked before. Why would it now?

“Fine,” Eddie said, sticking his chin up higher, “You’re not getting the rest back... I don’t know what you care, anyways. Stuffing ‘em under all our baseball cards...” He turned, then protectively pulling the door closer to himself to block the majority of the rest of the pictures.

Richie with his little buck teeth and big glasses, freckles thick on his face, and wide, loud mouth open in a grin. Each, probably, taken by a different Loser at different times, with those light-weight, disposable cameras that had no focus, or lighting. But Eddie didn’t even care if they were a little blurry around the edges, some of them.

They held good memories for him, and the second he’d seen them, a smile had taken over his face. Baseball cards forgotten, he’d sat flipping through each photo Richie had hidden away from sight, feeling more and more attached as the manual slideshow went on.

He’d stuffed them in his bag before Richie got back with their bags of chips and glass bottles of soda with paper straws. Then returned to checking the stats on the back of Jack Butterfield’s card, so he could prove Stan wrong about one thing or another, the know-it-all.

Eddie’d taken care with their placement, too. Well... Sorta. None of them over-lapped in bad places, anyway, and now Richie’d ruined all his hard work and left a big gaping hole!

It was really starting to steam Eddie up. To the point where he could hardly remember what class he had next, and what books he’d come to grab. When he felt a pull on the door, and wrenched it so close to himself, so fast, he nearly hit himself in the side of the head. “ _No_ , Richie, leave it!”

A heavy sigh ghosted across Eddie’s ear as Richie, towering over him, refused to let go of the door. “I’m putting it back...”

“No you’re not,” Eddie said incredulously. But he peeked at Richie from the corner of his eye, searching for sincerity.

Richie chuckled under his breath then, taking another step back and flipping the picture up higher into the air, so it’d be out of Eddie’s reach. “Fine, then I won’t.”

Eddie’s little mouth twitched, and then formed a mistrusting pout as his eyes narrowed. “ _I’ll_ put it back. _You_ don’t know where it goes.”

“Alright, pipsqueak. Calm down... Daddy doesn’t wanna get his hand bitten off when he hands you the photo, _okay_?”

He didn’t appreciate being talked to like a pet, or a ... toddler, but Eddie was pretty used to it, and at least he was getting what he wanted. That picture of Richie, with his face all lit up from the sun filtering through tree leaves, some freckles more golden than others, the peach fuzz on his cheeks caught in the light, and his eyes squinted so tight in a smile his eyes weren’t even visible. Unharmed.

Eddie took a deep breath in, then let his shoulders fall with the exhale, and presented his palm again. “Thank you,” he said stiffly.

Richie chose that moment to study Eddie more closely. Taking his time, so much that eventually Eddie averted his gaze, another blush taking over his cute little cheeks. Richie bit his lip in thought, but finally slapped the picture into Eddie’s hand. “Weirdo,” he said under his breath. But there was a warmth there that had Eddie’s chest puffing up.

“Whatever,” Eddie said, on a shrug, as he pressed it firmly back into place, and then collected the rest of his things from his locker.

His heart had begun beating faster, and Eddie didn’t look at Richie again, while they walked down the school hall, until Richie elbowed him for just about the fiftieth time. Finally cracking a smile out of Eddie, who then shoved him into the nearest broken radiator. “Stop it, jackass.”

“ _You_ stop it,” Richie said, nonsensically, grinning around it.


End file.
